


Good Advice

by yellowcottondresses



Category: Nashville (TV)
Genre: Beards (Relationships), Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:42:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowcottondresses/pseuds/yellowcottondresses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So how does Brent react to the news of Will and Layla's marriage?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Advice

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Woke up on Saturday to the news of renewal! Not a terrible way to start the weekend, I must say. Although I will be a lot less happy if there is no Brent in the season finale.

The bartender was cute, and had been giving him the side eye all night. For the most part Brent acted like he didn’t notice, but the guy was so obvious it was getting ridiculous to ignore it.

Maybe Brent would take him home. He was already enough of a cliché tonight as it was; anonymous sex with a bartender with pierced cartilage wasn’t going to change anything. Except possibly make him feel even more pathetic than he already was, living a cliché. 

And he hated being a cliché.

Yet here he was. Getting drunk and hating himself, because Will was on the road to success.

Why he was so upset about this, he wasn’t sure. He told Will not to break up with Layla, and he didn’t. What right did he have to get mad about the way things turned out. 

Sure, Brent didn’t exactly specify “get married and ruin both your lives forever”, but what did they say about Texas? Everything was bigger there? Including, apparently, your mistakes. 

Except, he reflected, it wasn’t really a mistake. Not entirely. He told Will what to do. Will did it. Yay, mission accomplished. 

And now here was Brent, on his third drink in some tragically hip college bar, staring at his hands and wondering why he hated everything in the world. 

He still had Craig’s number in his phone, even if they’d been broken up for months. He could call him, just for a ride home. Because Brent was pretty sure he was not in the best shape to be driving himself right now, even if his condo was only a few blocks away and Nashville wasn’t exactly L.A. in terms of traffic. 

Except if there was any person who didn’t deserve to get dragged into this whole orgy of drunken self-pity, it was Craig. He was the first decent guy Brent had dated in a long time. And Brent didn’t deserve to be with a guy like him – even before he started using Craig to make Will jealous. 

Plus, Craig was so _nice_. Nice, like, he’d actually drive out here to pick up his drunk ex-boyfriend in a crappy bar that was completely across town from where he lived. He would be the type of guy who would not only ask Brent what was wrong, but really care. And he wouldn’t even be thinking about using the situation to his advantage. No, it would never cross Craig’s mind to do something like that. He would just sit there, and listen, and offer actual advice on what Brent should do about being a Drunk Pathetic Loser. 

Because he was just that NICE.

And that was the biggest problem Brent had with him, when they were together. Craig was nice. And Brent was…not. Not at all. 

Yep. That was the best thing to do right now. Call the ex-boyfriend to ramble about some guy Brent had been in love with for six years. And don’t forget to tell Craig “hey, the whole time I was with you I basically used you to get over somebody else? You met him before actually, Will Lexington? In Houston? You know, when those guys almost beat the shit out of us in the hotel restaurant and nobody did anything about it? Well, basically I never got over him, and I totally dragged you to Texas because I wanted to throw you in his face? Except it kinda backfired because I realized I was completely, pathetically, stupidly still in love with him? So, how’s your night been?”

Craig deserved better, even when they were dating. And if Brent were nice like he was, Brent would say that he broke it off with Craig because he KNEW Craig deserved better. But really, it was because Brent couldn’t stop thinking about someone who couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as him.

And that was the reason why Brent hadn’t had a stable relationship – or any kind of relationship, really– since ending things with Craig. Because he’d rather spend time having sideways conversations about nothing with someone who pretended he didn’t exist, rather than pick up the phone and call the guy who was literally The Perfect Boyfriend. Brent would rather be scorned and snapped at and treated like shit than put effort into finding himself a halfway-decent guy. One who didn’t act like he hated him.

He took another long gulp of his drink. What a totally healthy, self-respecting way to live. Almost as healthy and self-respecting as marrying some teenage girl you conned into being your beard. All of this was completely going to end well for everyone involved – Will, Layla, him, and anybody unlucky enough to get stuck with Brent now. 

And the saddest part? Brent was still going to keep Will’s Deep Dark Secret. Even though Will had done exactly jack and shit to deserve it. But Brent was still going to do it. 

Why? 

Because he was an idiot. 

He stared at the rest of the clear liquid in his drink. Stared at his hands some more. 

Poor Layla. The sad thing – apart from many, many, many incredibly sad things here – was that the girl wasn’t terrible. Kind of spoiled and whiney, not to mention way too eager to please everyone around her, but she wanted to succeed, and was willing to work hard, and knew how to smile and wave and be the sweet lil' darling everyone thought she was. 

And she actually COULD sing. He’d worked with enough singers to know talent, and Layla was talented. She could have gone all the way and been a big deal, if Jeff had actually tried to make it happen. Especially since Juliette’s reputation was still in the toilet. Edgehill should have been pushing Layla towards her fanbase, really trying to get her out there. It could have happened, with the right resources. 

Brent had told Jeff all of this. More than once. But he also knew that Jeff Fordham didn’t look at anything longer than five minutes unless he wanted to buy it or fuck it, and Layla was too innocent for him. 

Brent wondered, briefly, if Jeff had managed to succeed in having that so-definitely-coming-yes-pun-definitely-intended hate sex with Rayna Jaymes or Juliette Barnes. He had his eye on the both of them for more than just the label. 

He stared at the remains in the glass. Wondered how long it would take Will to start fucking around. Before he started looking for more release through pain, because that was the only way Will knew how to deal with anything he felt. Before he dragged someone else into his weird, punishing ritual of denial and self-loathing. 

Except now he’d be punishing more than just himself. 

Brent sighed, running a hand through his hair. This was what he got a masters degree in marketing for – to get drunk in a lame hipster bar, psychoanalyzing the sex life of his ex –

What, exactly? Boyfriend? Fling? Hook-up?

 _Happy Wedding, asshole_ , he thought, downing the rest of his drink. _May you continue to string that poor girl along and ruin the both of your lives. Fuck you sincerely. I’ll still pick up the phone if you call._

He stared at the bottom of the empty glass, and wondered if Craig had a new guy. Hopefully one who wasn’t still hung up on a cowboy. 

Brent honestly hoped so. If only because if Craig was out with someone else, he wouldn’t come get the drunk ex, and leave Brent here to stew in his own self-pity and vodka.

And also, because that guy seriously deserved a better class of boyfriend. 

Maybe Brent did, too. Maybe he deserved better than being punched in a laundry room, or ignored, or yelled at, or fucked like a dirty secret. 

But whatever, that was why there was liquor and country songs. For heartbroken suckers like him.


End file.
